It was an unusually cool December in Melbourne. The promise of sweltering heat remained just that—a promise. As the festive specials rolled out, my eyes were drawn to one in particular: 15% off on Steam.
I knew I needed some time to myself, and this special provided the perfect gateway. With the curtains drawn and my social calendar clear, I began my side quest.
Crafting my Avatar
The choice was daunting at the outset. Elves, with their air of pretension and undeniable beauty, contrasted sharply with the mundanity of humans. Why settle for ordinary when one could bear the crest of a dragon or the vision of a devil-born?
Should my avatar be the epitome of my idealised hero, or a cynical, battle-hardened scoundrel who shoots first? While each slider offered a cosmetic choice, it paled in comparison to the backstory I crafted for myself.
An exiled half-elf, ostracized for his mixed heritage - a nod to my own Fijian-Indian background. My personal trauma as an inspiring backdrop. But unlike myself, Tav can shoot fireballs.
Choosing a Profession
Opting for the life of a warlock, I was drawn to the idea of a being gifted with immense powers by a dark and unruly entity—a Johnny Blaze or John Constantine, if you will. Where the scars of past traumas are hidden beneath the cloak of a spellcaster.
The academic wizards, devout paladins, and earthy rangers presented some enviable character choices, yet none felt like a true calling.
Nothing spells morally grey like necromancy.
Changing my Profession
The limitation of just three spell slots began to chafe, feeling more limiting than powerful. And so, I spent an evening in front of a Magic Mirror, choosing a new class, agonising over every feat and DPS. My avatar, once a brooding warlock, morphed into what I can only describe as a 'brooding nerd,' driven by an insatiable hunger for more spell slots.
In some ways, this paralleled my own professional career. I chose to multi-class. We call that being a generalist.
Working in a Team
The world before me was torn asunder by conflict. As I ventured from one map to the next, it became evident that the realm was fractured by deep-seated biases, not just among the world's denizens but within the ranks of my own party
Though my motley crew had literally fallen from the sky, whatever common goal was often in conflict with centuries of racial distrust.
With each shared battle and favorable dice roll, the nights spent at camp turned from cold to piping hot.
Somewhere along the line, I changed into a female, and things went from piping hot to incendiary.
Reckoning with Choices
In the heat of the moment, some decisions appeared to be clear-cut victories, only to unravel as I ventured deeper into the narrative.
The game's moral landscape would often throw me for a spin. The distinction between right and wrong was blurred by circumstance. I learned that 'good' often wears a deceptive mask, and what's deemed 'evil' can sometimes stem from a place of desperation.
The abundance of choices, each branching into unforeseen consequences, reminded me that foresight is a rare commodity and adequately naming your game saves is crucial.
An end to my adventure
After 88 hours, my foray into this world concluded. But the echo of the adventure continues to linger. New avatars, new classes and new difficulty levels can make for entirely new play-throughs.
I found such a profound state of immersion in simply managing my inventory.
You just can't buy that kind of flow state.
Or maybe you can.